


Proof

by Legume_Shadow



Series: Whispers (Prequels to the Echoes Series) [11]
Category: Peacemaker Kurogane, Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Assassination, BAMFs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 05:18:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3369263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legume_Shadow/pseuds/Legume_Shadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the violence in Kyoto starts to spiral out of control, Kenshin begins his work as the Choshuu hitokiri, Okita become more deeply embroiled in the webs of schemes, Saitou begins spying on a certain member of the Roshigumi, and Susumu discovers something startling about Serizawa and his loyalties to the Roshigumi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First Publishing: AO3, February 2015. All copyrights apply to the appropriate parties and no profit is being made from this fanwork.

**Part 10: Proof**

**Chapter 10.0**

_May 1863_

 

“Hey, you look familiar!”

Okita looked up from where he was browsing the clay wares of a vendor, blinking slightly in surprise as he saw the face of a man he had not seen in a while. While the man's hair was grown out a lot more and looked quite scraggly and unkempt, it was the facial structure that still held a delighted look that he remembered seeing before. “Sakamoto-san?” he ventured a guess.

“Okita!” Sakamoto exclaimed, smiling quite widely. “It is you!”

A grin blossomed on his face as he stepped in and gave Sakamoto Ryouma a hearty thump on the back, just as he received one in return. “It has definitely been a while, Sakamoto-san,” he said as they stepped back and moved to the side of the street to not block traffic flowing down this particular street or block the vendor. “How are you?”

“Fine, fine,” the samurai that he, Okita, had bumped into twice before and had sort of befriended during their second encounter, said. “Just wandering about, _scouting_ for recruits to join the Naval Training Center in Osaka.”

“ _Scouting_?” he asked, unfamiliar with the foreign word.

“Well, just looking for recruits,” Sakamoto answered. “I'm surprised to see you in Kyoto. What brings you here?”

Despite all that had gone on since their arrival, Okita could not help but proudly say, “We, the Roshigumi, were among those who escorted our Shogun to Kyoto for his talks with the Emperor.”

He saw a moment's hesitation appear on Sakamoto's expression before the strange man shrugged and said, “You should come join us, Okita. Come join us at the Naval Training Center. The group you joined may have had good intentions from the start, but there's a lot of frightened people in Kyoto right now, and most of them fear the Roshigumi. You should get out before its too late and join us.”

Frowning, he felt a spark of cold anger well up in him, even though he understood that Sakamoto's words were not meant to be insulting. Yes, he was well aware of the fear that the Roshigumi was causing, but it was also the rash of assassinations from the rebels, especially from one of the many assassins, who had been identified as Tosa clansman, Okada Izo, that contributed mostly to the fear. Other assassins that the rebels employed had yet to be identified, but with Serizawa's influence, however others of the Roshigumi might object to, the assassins would soon have no where to hide.

“I have to decline that invitation, Sakamoto-san,” he said as politely as he could. However, before he could say more, there was a rather large commotion up street that drew both of their attentions.

A moment later, Sakamoto said in a hurried tone, “Well, I cannot stay, Okita. I have much to do, but I hope that perhaps in the future, you'll reconsider my offer.”

Before Okita could even say a proper farewell, Sakamoto disappeared into the crowds, heading away from the commotion. A few minutes later, a group of uniformed men marched down the street, wearing colors familiar to him. Mimiwarigumi.

“There he is! After him!” one of the Mimiwarigumi members shouted, and Okita looked down the street to see of all people who was running full tilt, it was Sakamoto. Confusion briefly filled him as he wondered exactly why the Mimiwarigumi were chasing after the samurai, but it was quickly answered when one of the patrolmen stepped in front of Okita, glowering down at him.

He refused to be intimidated at the taller man's hostile expression as the patrolman said, “You are Okita Souji of the Roshigumi, are you not?”

“Yes, I am,” he answered with equal curtness, narrowing his eyes slightly as he moved his hands as slowly as he could without letting the patrolman catch on, towards his sides, ready to draw his swords if needed.

“Why did you let the wanted Sakamoto Ryouma go?” the man questioned in an accusatory tone.

“Wanted?” he asked, eyes widening in surprise. While news about the identity of assassins and other rebels who were known to be in the city and causing trouble was sometimes heard from other groups, it was rare. Most of the information the Roshigumi received was from the eyes and ears of Yamazaki Susumu or Serizawa. The fact that he didn't hear about Sakamoto being a wanted man was concerning – rumors of Tosa having some unrest had been heard, along with rumors that the clan was in the midst of hunting for some of their own men who had deserted and were hiding out in Kyoto. He had thought that Sakamoto was legitimately here in Kyoto on business.

“Wanted for desertion of his clan and possible assassination of an official of Tosa,” the patrolman stated. “Are the Roshigumi collaborating with Sakamoto and the rebels?!”

“No,” he growled, narrowing his eyes as he, clamped a firm hand on the scabbard of his katana and the other on the hilt of his sword. A swirl of cold anger wrapped around him, not only from being duped by Sakamoto, but also from the insulting question that had been levied on his and his group's honor. The Mimiwarigumi patrolman had taken a step back, but Okita saw fear flash across his eyes.

Hastily, the man suddenly apologized, saying, “My humblest of apologies, sir. I meant no offense. If it pleases you, you may join us in the hunt for Sakamoto.”

Holding the intimidating stance he now had over the patrolman for a few moments longer than was necessary, for he felt quite satisfied in seeing the patrolman squirm, Okita abruptly dropped his hands from his katana and stepped back. However, his anger still had not ebbed as he coldly said, “The Wolves of Mibu do not hunt with those they consider weak. In the next instance where I encounter Sakamoto, I will be sure that he will not escape as he has now done from you and your people. If we ever meet again, do not get in my way.”

* * *

_About an hour later..._

 

_So many people_! That was the first thought that crossed Kenshin's mind as he wandered the streets, taking in the hustle and bustle of Kyoto on a late spring day. He was so busy just staring at the vendors and their wares, along with the multitude of pretty women in kimonos that he did not watch where he was going and subsequently ended up bumping into someone.

Quickly backing up, he hastily bowed in apology as he said, “I'm sorry to have bumped into you.”

“It's all right, the fault was mine too,” an equally youthful voice answered him.

Kenshin glanced up and straightened to see a young man, a couple of years older than he was, dusting himself off. The accent, though, and dialect of the young man in front of him, was oddly familiar. Curious, he asked, “Your accent...are you from Tosa?”

Surprise lit up the young man's eyes as he nodded, but Kenshin noted that there was a slightly fearful look in those eyes too. To appease the young man he said, “I met a couple of people from Tosa before.” It was true, though the Tosa clansmen he had briefly seen had all been at Takasugi's training grounds on business.

Fortunately, the two of them were interrupted by a joyful, boisterous exclamation from a man who shouted, “Izou!”

The young man was suddenly engulfed in a bear hug from a tall man with messily-curly hair and a big wide smile. Kenshin found himself staring at the scene before him, boggled and backing up slightly to give the two room. He heard the young man react with joy, saying, “Ryouma!” and giving the tall samurai an equally big hug.

“Ah, who's your friend, here, Izou?” the tall samurai asked, pinning Kenshin with inquisitive eyes, letting the younger man go, before Kenshin could make an excuse to leave.

“We just bumped into each other in the middle of this crowded street,” the young man said, laughing.

“Sakamoto Ryouma,” the tall samurai introduced himself to Kenshin. “Looks like Izou here is lacking in proper manners. So, I'm going to introduce him to you. He's Okada Izou.”

“Ryouma...” Okada said in a half-annoyed tone, but was laughing at the same time.

“Himura Kenshin,” Kenshin said, recognizing the name of 'Sakamoto Ryouma'. Katsura had spoken of the man before with great admiration in his voice, but to actually finally meet Sakamoto... He wasn't sure if the tall samurai in front of him, cheerfully glomping a friend was the great idealist that his employer had fondly talked about. To him, Sakamoto looked almost like a half-crazy man who had no care in the world – especially since he had heard that Sakamoto was a deserter of his clan.

“Hmm,” Sakamoto said, suddenly turning his full attention to onto him. “You look strong, Himura-san. You should join the navy!”

“What?” he asked, confused as to how this turned right into a recruitment by Sakamoto.

“Our country's navy,” Sakamoto said, grinning. “The Naval Training Center in Osaka is looking for recruits! We're going to go _washing_ Japan once we're doing training!”

Kenshin did not know what the foreign word meant, but fortunately, he was saved from further embarrassment as yet another person stumbled into them, causing Sakamoto to blankly give the intruder a surprised look before saying, “Katsura!”

“Eh, Sakamoto?!”

Wisely, both Kenshin and Okada stepped back as Katsura was engulfed in a hearty, back-slapping hug by the boisterous samurai. Glancing over at Okada, he noticed that the fear was gone from the young man's eyes and was completely replaced by pure happiness. From the way Okada seemed to interact with Sakamoto, Kenshin guessed that Okada seemed to look up to Sakamoto as a mentor of some sorts. A pang of sadness tugged at him as Kenshin was reminded of his own master, whom he had parted with on ill terms, but he quashed it down as much as possible. Hiko Seijuurou had given him permission to leave, and now, he had a chance to protect people while helping Katsura and others of his group in trying to create the new era with his blade.

Taking a step back, Katsura's smile on his face, but Kenshin did not see it reflect in his employer's eyes, as his employer turned his attention to him, saying, “I hope that you've acquainted yourself with Kyoto's streets, Himura-kun. You're needed back at the clan house.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, giving his employer a curt nod and bowed slightly towards Sakamoto and Okada before leaving without another word.

* * *

“What are you planning to do with that boy, Katsura?” Sakamoto asked as soon as they were seated and the tea had been placed on their table.

Katsura sighed as he picked up the mug and took a sip of the tea. His eyes strayed over to the young man sitting next to Sakamoto, who had an inquisitive look in his eyes, but sat in a guarded state, as if ready to lash out at anyone who would attack them. He knew that Okada Izou was one of the Tosa clan's hitokiri, and in particular, one of Sakamoto's friends. He also knew that Sakamoto had been greatly displeased at what Takechi Hanpeita, the leader of the Tosa Loyalist group, had done to coerce Okada into becoming a hitokiri – he, Katsura, had been on the receiving end of Sakamoto's drunken lament a few months ago.

“I made an oath to never again draw my sword,” he simply said.

Sakamoto shook his head, sighing as he too picked up his own mug of tea and drank it. “Why?” his friend asked after a moment.

“Lately, there are many pro-Shogunate groups that have arrived and set up shop here in this great city,” Katsura said. “Two groups in particular have proven to been both dangerous and a menace to those who support _sonno-joi_. The Roshigumi and Mimiwarigumi. You might've heard at least the Roshigumi's other name, Miburo.”

“Oh,” Sakamoto flatly stated, frowning. “Those guys from the Mibu village.” However, after he placed his mug back down on the table, he suddenly gave a great sigh before saying, “It still doesn't justify turning Himura into a hitokiri.”

At those words, Katsura saw Okada's eyes narrow slightly, with the inquisitive look all but wiped away. “Think of it as a blessing, Sakamoto,” he said, returning his attention to his friend. “There's rumors going around that both the Roshigumi and Mimiwarigumi are looking for Okada here. Himura is blessed with a great and powerful sword style – allow us Choshuu clansmen to take the heat off of Tosa for a while.”

“If it doesn't work?” his friend questioned. “Currently, Okada is keeping an eye on Katsu-sensei. He is no longer working as a hitokiri. They have no reason to hunt him.”

“It will work, Sakamoto. Trust me.”

The two friends were silent for a few minutes, sipping the tea set out for them while listening to the sounds of those outside of Kyoto. The young assassin, Okada, had taken to looking around the restaurant, as if warily watching out for any ambush. At long last, it was Katsura who asked, “How have things been? I heard that there were some trouble in Tosa.”

“I actually don't know,” Sakamoto admitted, looking oddly serious, for the usual carefree expression he carried had not returned since the three of them had sat down. “I heard about things in Tosa, but honestly, I've been so busy with the Naval Training Center that I really don't know what is going on at home. I was only sent into here to recruit people for the Training Center, so you probably have better information about the state of the country than I do.”

“Well, the Shogunate is dragging their feet on their response to the Emperor's demands,” Katsura supplied. “Satsuma is trying to consolidate power within the Emperor's favor, while we of the Choshuu are trying to push for the Emperor to hear our voices. Its been going on for the past couple of years and I've been in and out of Kyoto because of it.”

“Then since I'm having the worst of luck right now trying to recruit, do you think you could do me a favor, Katsura?” Sakamoto asked, placing his mug down onto the table. “There is a friend of mine whom I haven't talked to in a while, probably a little over two years or so. I've sent some messages to him, but I haven't heard back from him yet. I don't have time to go up the mountains to go visit him right now, but if you could send a messenger, I would be in your debt.”

“You don't ever owe me, Sakamoto,” Katsura answered. “What you are doing is important enough, and there will be a time when we will need the strength of the navy behind us to expel the foreigners. I will send a messenger. Who do you want me to find and what message do you want me to give?”

“Ichimura is the man's name. The message I want you to give him is: I've found the chrysanthemum.”

* * *

_Afternoon, two hours later..._

 

Rooftops were slippery when it rained, and it didn't help that there was a whole bunch of pigeons who had decided to leave their droppings in a nice fat pile on a particular narrow path that connected two rooftops. The runoff from the droppings made this particular route even more precarious, but it was either this route or an open one that left him vulnerable to get to his destination.

He had received a tipoff about suspicious activity around Shimabara via pigeon courier message from the Kyoto Oniwabanshuu while out and about. Rather than check in with Hijikata about the message, he had taken upon himself to investigate the tipoff, for he had not heard or found anything useful yet for today's activities.

The message was vague enough that he could not pinpoint the exact location he was supposed to be in Shimabara, but as he entered the district, he spotted a samurai under an umbrella, making his way towards a flower house. It was not the umbrella that gave away the identity of the samurai, but the distinct gait in which the samurai walked. Frowning, he followed the samurai via rooftop at a discreet distance; wondering why Serizawa had clearly stated that morning that he was going to go on an all-day patrol in the northern sections of their territory when he was south and headed towards a flower house.

He knew from reputation and from the very brief interactions he had with the man that Serizawa was not one to skirt his duties, especially when it came to patrolling Kyoto. The man was a vicious bully and in the months that had passed since the Roshigumi's arrival in Kyoto, their reputation had gotten a lot worse – it had made the incidents that had plagued them their first week seem so trivial. A divide was clearly happening between Serizawa's people and Kondou's people, with Tonouchi's people getting caught in the middle of it. Therefore, Susumu could not help but wonder what exactly was Serizawa doing right now...

He stopped on the rooftop of the flower house that Serizawa entered and looked around. There were a few niches and secondary awnings that were sticking out, but nothing secured enough that he could hide himself without being seen. Even with the rain driving all but the most determined indoors, it was still light out, and thus he was quite visible. However, as he peered over into the alleyway, he spotted something interesting and knew that it was the only way he could sneak into the flower house without possibly being detected.

Scouring the area to ensure that no one was within visible distance, he balanced himself over the edge of the rooftop, dangling over the alleyway by his hands. Letting one hand go, he reached for the narrow window and managed to snag it open. Carefully pushing the pane out of its housing, he could feel his left arm, which was now holding all of his weight over the alleyway, start to tire slightly in exertion and in trying to keep his grip on the edge of the slippery rooftop.

Reaching back up, he grasped the edge of the rooftop with both hands and swung himself, gaining enough momentum to directly swing his entire body into the narrow window, just as he let go. Landing as quietly into the narrow space between the false ceiling of the second floor of the flower house and the true one, he carefully turned himself and replaced the window pane. Most buildings, even castles, were built this way to allow a layer of dead air to settle that served to help insulate the building during the winter months and cool during the summer months. However, it was rare for a shinobi to actually find a viable access point into these false ceilings, for most were boarded up from the outside to prevent air cooling/heating leakage.

Turning himself again, he quietly crawled on his stomach, hearing the quiet murmurs of the day time patrons below. His progress around the area was slow, but with luck on his side, he finally heard the familiar tones of Serizawa, along with a few others. Crawling as fast as he dared without trying to make a sound, he finally stopped at the area where the sounds were the loudest and as dusty as it was, he pressed the side of his head onto the floor of the false ceiling.

Breathing carefully, for the dust in this place was causing him to choke and nearly sneeze, he held the reflex in as he heard the voices become clearer, with Serizawa saying, “... contacts with factions aligned with the Emperor's views.”

“That can be arranged in due time,” a woman said.

“Takechi and his people from Tosa are interfering,” another voice, sounding slightly youthful but angry spoke up.

“Leave that to me,” Serizawa said.

“No,” the same woman answered, “your interference with the chaos in this has already done enough damage. Our guidance in this is all for naught. You need to back down. Hiro, you are in charge of making sure that Takechi and his people are removed from Kyoto with all haste.”

“No stomach for the blood, _woman_?” Serizawa sneered. “Turning the forces that are under my command to the correct path and giving them to the Emperor for his usage will require more than just pretty words and batting eyelashes. They are not for Choshuu, Satsuma, Aizu, Tosa, or the Shogunate usage.”

“I have the stomach for blood; a lot more than you seem to think is being spilled,” the woman lashed out. “You are deviating from the path laid out by our organization.”

“I can second that,” the youthful-sounding man agreed.

“Indeed,” a fourth person said, the tone of his voice rumbling as if it were a thunderstorm. “My contacts outside of Kyoto have heard of the group you control, and they are all concerned where this is going.”

“If the organization does not like what I am doing, then they can all go to hell. They should not have put me in charge of assembling the Roshigumi and allowed me to take them to Kyoto,” Serizawa said, though Susumu was not sure if there was a trace of bitterness or just pure arrogance in the tone, for it was hard to discern emotional tones.

Silence fell upon the group and he wondered what was going on until he heard the clack of partitions being opened. He could hear two people leave, and the partition close, before hearing Serizawa demand, “Send Oume to me, woman. She, at least has the decency to be more of a proper woman than you can ever be.”

The partition opened again and closed as Susumu barely heard the light shuffling of footsteps go away. He laid there for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the light rain fall on the rooftop, before hearing the partition close again and a woman's light voice issue up from the room.

Serizawa's rumblings in reply to who he could only assume as Oume's questions were hard to understand, but still he did not move. It was with hope that Serizawa would talk with Oume and further provide him, Susumu, with information, that he stayed. Silence again fell upon the room, but a few moments later, he heard a rather loud moan of pleasure and realized what was happening. Rolling his eyes slightly, he knew that he was now overstaying and carefully started to silently crawl back to where he had entered. He really did not need to lay there, listening to the sounds of Serizawa and Oume in the midst of their lovemaking.

What little information he had heard from that strange meeting was convoluted and confusing, but one thing was sure – Serizawa's allegiance to the Roshigumi and to the Shogunate was not what everyone had thought it was. Hijikata and the others had to be warned.

* * *

Light rain had been steadily falling since afternoon storm clouds, common at this time of the year, rolled in. However wet and soaked Kenshin felt, he ignored it – his master had him practicing out in the elements for longer than the hour he had been tailing his targets.

The two men that he had been following, one an old man, and the other, a middle-aged man, were now walking up a long street that was interspersed with stone stairs. There was virtually no one around, for with the rain, it had driven all but the most hearty indoors. The pitter-patter of rain on his umbrella was a soothing sound as he calmed himself and focused his energy. He had to strike now, for when his targets reached the top, it would open up into a wider area that would eventually lead to one of the many temples that dotted Kyoto.

Dropping his umbrella with a  _plop_ on the rain-soaked ground, he secured his sword in his left hand, with his thumb poised over the guard and pushed a tiny part of the blade out. Pour as much speed as he could into his legs, he flew towards the two targets and just as he closed in the distance for the perfect strike, his right hand grasped the hilt of his blade. With a flawless execution of a standard battoujutsu draw, he immediately swiped his blade diagonally up from left to right, gutting his first target before swiftly pivoting left to slice in the opposite direction.

Both men fell to the ground in wet, meaty thumps, with the unsheathed sword of the middle-aged man clattering down a few steps. However, he did not linger as he flicked his blade and sheathed it before sprinting away, assassination assignment completed. He knew that the rain would wash away most of the blood from the corpses of the men, and that later, when the sun came back out, Iizuka would arrive to 'clean up' the area. There was no reason for him to linger any longer than he should.

Heaven's punishment on these two people had been meted out.

* * *

_One hour later..._

 

Okita wrinkled his nose slightly at the smell of two rapidly decaying bodies who had been covered under straw tarps, not because of the smell of death, but more because the smell of sweet, blossoming, late-spring flowers did not mix with the atmosphere. Even before the rain had let up a little over a half-hour ago, it had been the terrified screams of several people in the area that had brought him, Hijikata, and Saitou into the area.

The three of them had begun their patrol around the area less than a hour ago, with the streets virtually deserted of people except those who had business to tend to. Even the temples and shrines they had passed while on their patrol route had been emptied of people except for the monks and priests who ran their places of worship. Vendors, though still open for business, stayed indoors or under as much cover as possible as the rain steadily fell, looking up into the sky, hoping for a break. However, the heavy grey clouds that lingered over the city did not seem to want to move.

He lightly coughed, trying to get rid of the itchy feeling he had in his throat that had developed though the day. This morning, he had woken up and involuntarily coughed as his body tried to expel whatever was plaguing his chest. Though the coughs had quickly subsided, he occasionally felt the need to continue to get rid of the strange feeling he had in his chest, thus is voluntary coughing. Even though he felt fine, he hoped that he was not coming down with a cold.

“You should head back to headquarters if you're not feeling well, Souji,” Hijikata spoke up.

“I am fine, Hijikata-san,” he said, looking up and giving him a reassuring smile. “I just have something stuck in my throat that is not much of a concern.”

“The blade work on these victims is different from the ones that Okada Izou has killed,” Saitou quietly said, bringing their attention back to the matter on hand. “It also doesn't look like Udou Jin'e's handiwork either.”

While Hijikata crouched down to get a closer look at the bodies, Okita stepped around to where Saitou was and carefully ran his eyes over the gruesome wounds that had been inflicted. While most of the initial blood let loose during the attack had washed away, there were still trickles of it mingling in with the puddles on the ground. Washed intestines, along with other organs within the bodies had spilled out and were virtually white-looking, though necrosis was starting to settle in and turn them a dull grey color.

Both victims had surprised looks etched upon their faces, meaning that the assassin must have attacked from the rear, though one of the samurai attacked had managed to get his sword out but was not fast enough to block the strike. While Okita was aware that notorious Tosa assassin, Okada Izou, attacked from behind, the assassin killed with multiple strikes.

Shogunate-sanctioned assassin, Udou Jin'e, whom he was aware that Serizawa had wanted to recruit for the past month now, to join the Roshigumi, was a loose cannon. Unconfirmed reports, not only from Yamazaki Susumu, but also Serizawa, had told of Udou Jin'e's tendency to not listen to authority and kill whomever he wanted to. However, Okita had heard that the man's skills with the sword were adequate to get the job done, though it was in the most messy of fashions.

Whoever had killed these two samurai had killed in one stroke each – precision he had never seen before. The calibre of the swordsman who killed these men was incredibly high.

“Well, given that we all agree that Kurogasa is not entirely in possession of his faculties,” he started and heard Saitou snort in laughter, “if there is a new rebel assassin running loose, is it possible to focus Yamazaki-san's efforts on trying to identify this new assassin?”

“I'll think about it,” Hijikata answered, standing up just as the three of them heard heavy footsteps approach.

Okita turned as Saitou also did, to see Serizawa approach with a stern look upon his face. He was curious as to why the leader of the Roshigumi was present, when he had clearly told them that he would be on the north side of their territory today. However, it was Hijikata who beat them to the punch with the question lingering in their minds.

“I thought you said you were patrolling north,” Hijikata stated.

“Niimi and others have taken over. I received word about this incident from my contacts,” Serizawa bluntly said. “Have the victims been identified yet?”

“No,” Hijikata replied as Okita saw him clench his jaw in anger for a moment.

“My contacts have also told of a potential incident brewing with Tosa clansmen and locals south of here. Okita and I will attend to that. See to it that the bodies are identified and reported to the Aizu clan house,” Serizawa ordered before turning to leave.

Seeing that he had no other choice but to follow, Okita gave a nod towards Hijikata and Saitou. What he was doing was for the greater good, and though he was well aware that Hijikata was not happy with him spending a lot of his patrol time following Serizawa around, Serizawa was the most proactive person within the Roshigumi. It was also from Serizawa that he had also received 'special' assignments to counter the rash of rebel assassinations, utilizing his skills with the sword to the fullest.

Once he secured the full confidence of Serizawa, that was when he knew he could start to ensure that Serizawa worked to better relations with Kondou and the others. For now, it was duty first, personal concerns later.

“Serizawa-san,” he began as he walked beside his leader...

* * *

Long had he been in the presence of people whose tone of voice always seemed to border on the simpering when trying to get in the favor of a higher-ranking official, but Saitou could hear nothing of the sort from Okita's tone as the two men had left, with Okita asking a few questions to get an idea of the brewing situation. As their voices faded away, he looked over towards the vice-commander. There seemed to be a very peculiarly stormy expression sitting upon Hijikata's face before it was quickly erased as Hijikata crouched down again next to the old man's body.

“Follow Souji, Saitou,” he heard Hijikata quietly say, lifting the straw tarp back up. “I want to know what exactly he's doing for Serizawa while on and off duty.”

“For how long?” he asked, glancing down the street where he had last seen Serizawa and Okita before the two disappeared into the crowd of bystanders who were slowly gathering to gawk at the dead bodies. It had surprised him to hear Hijikata asking him to observe in detail about Okita's patrol and off-duty habits; he had thought the two had a good relationship. For their vice-commander to ask him to spy on a trusted comrade told him that Hijikata was suspicious of Serizawa, but did not want to tip off Okita about his suspicions, thus the indirect spying... but what was he suspicious of?

“As long as it takes.”

 

~*~*~*~

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 10.1**

 

Thoroughly soaked through due to the rain, it was already past the hours of the Ox, approaching the hours of the Tiger, Susumu finally made his way back to the compound. The information from his day's work was quite thorough, though the only thing he had not found much more information on was the strange, secretive meeting Serizawa had attended. Though he was uncomfortable and quite chilled in his rain-soaked clothes, he did not stop to change out of his outfit, finding it prudent to report to the vice-commander first.

He usually briefed not only Serizawa, but also Kondou, Hijikata, and Tonouchi whenever he returned. However, since it was so late at night, and his information somewhat not for other ears, he would only disturb Hijikata. There was also the fact that Yamanami had decided to spend the night at one of Shimabara's flower houses, visiting the woman known as Akesato. Kondou was also not present, and Susumu could only assume that the man was spending time with his mistress somewhere on the far side of the city. Tounouchi hated to be disturbed in the middle of the night and his sleep for anything, short of an invasion to the compound. Serizawa had Oume in his room at the compound, which meant he was definitely not to be disturbed – Susumu snorted in disgust – as if the man had not satisfied himself earlier in the day with that woman.

It was just by sensing all of the leaders of the Roshigumi's presences, or lack thereof, when he had entered that he had determined the current situation. A few other swordsmen were also missing from the compound, either on patrol or like a couple of their leaders, also staying over night at the flower houses.

“You should change out of those clothes before you catch a cold, Susumu.”

He glanced back and glared at Ayumu, annoyed that she had intruded upon his thoughts as he collected himself in the courtyard of the compound. In his opinion, he thought Ayumu had no right to mother over him when it was in fact it was she who had pushed him away so long ago and distanced herself from him. It was an old wound festering and even though he was glad he was on this assignment in Kyoto, her being here was like a constant scab being picked over.

Turning back, he ignored her suggestion and approached Hijikata's room, noting that though it was quite late, faint lantern light was showing through the partition. Kneeling down beside the room, he said, “ _Fukuchou_ , I have information for you.”

He heard some shuffling and after a few moments, heard the vice-commander say, “Enter.”

Sliding the door open, he entered and closed it, kneeling down in seiza and bowed slightly. The vice-commander's hair was slightly mused, and beyond the low flicking light of the lantern that was near his desk, Susumu could see that a futon had been laid out, but the covering had been pushed back. He had disturbed the vice-commander's rest. However, as he looked up into Hijikata's eyes, there was no such admonishment in his eyes – Susumu was not in the wrong to have disturbed his rest.

“Report,” the vice-commander ordered.

“Sir, there have been rumors from the Nishiki Market of more country samurai pouring into the city, but most people point to them laying low towards the southern area. It seems that a lot of them are here to see what the Shogunate will say when the deadline for their response to the Emperor's question arrives. Tosa clansmen are still petitioning, as are the Choshuu members at the Imperial court, but Satsuma has stepped up their resistance to the Emperor's request. There have been a few clashes of words between Choshuu and Satsuma in the vicinity Nijo Castle, but nothing to incite any unrest yet. Mimiwarigumi and their spies have control over that area, so I could not fetch much information.”

“So it's just posturing and a bunch of impatient samurai who are ready to jump into any action at a moment's notice?”

“It would seem so,” Susumu agreed.

“The deadline is approaching. We will need to increase patrol times or people in order to keep the streets safe. It doesn't matter if the Shogun agrees with the Emperor or not – samurai on both sides will be down each other's throats no matter the outcome.”

Susumu maintained his silence on the matter as Hijikata voices his thoughts out loud. A moment later, the vice-commander said, “Any word on identifying more hitokiri in the employ of any of the southern clans?”

“Other than Tosa clansman, Okada Izou, not yet. There are rumors that there is a new hitokiri in town, possibly employed by Choshuu, who is a very talented battoujutsu. This new hitokiri is said to be able to kill targets with just the draw of his sword and powerful precision striking on targets if the target happened to get lucky and block the sword draw.”

“We may have possibly encountered this new hitokiri's handiwork today,” Hijikata said, lighting up his thin pipe and took a long draw from it. Susumu waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't as he continued, saying, “Such a hitokiri as this swordsman is, is dangerous to Kyoto. I'm pulling you from your other duties, Yamazaki. I need you to find out who exactly this hitokiri is, and what his sword style is. He's already killed two minor officials, and if he is anything like Okada Izou or greater, then we can look at patrolmen being killed within a matter of months.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “I do, however, also have some information on Serizawa.”

“Don't bother,” Hijikata dismissively said. “I already have someone monitoring him.”

“As you wish,” he answered, though he couldn't help but feel that he should have defied Hijikata's orders and presented his information. Still, it was not his place to disobey any order from the man who routinely knew what to do with the information presented to him. While Serizawa thought of him as an semi-invisible stain upon the Roshigumi's honor, Tonouchi actively hated upon him and Ayumu – the man clearly did not like shinobi. Kondou was tolerant, but left most of the planning to Hijikata. Yamanami kept the finances and everything else in some semblance of an order, and thus Susumu had not spent much time gauging the man.

If there was one man that he, Susumu, was loyal to in this den of rabid wolves, it was Hijikata Toshizou. He would never disobey Hijikata's orders, no matter what they were.

* * *

If the spirits of the world had a sense of humor, she did not see it at all. Under the veneer of mystery and beauty that she had adopted for the persona of her cover as Azami, Yuna detested that it was taking so long for this particular assignment she had been given by the organization to complete. Serizawa was not dead yet, and she had not made much progress in trying to turn Okita into one of their own. With the unrest continuing to deteriorate in the city, her goals were getting farther and farther to reach, for the fine-tuned control she once had over the city's information flow was spiraling out of control.

Most of it was due to Serizawa's seemingly insane campaign to alienate both the support of the commoners and nobles. Customers she and the women entertaining in not only Shimabara, but also in Gion sought shelter in the flower and tea houses, but became rowdy as soon as the first bottle of sake was drunk. Fist fights were now more common than ladies asked to play the shamisen for entertainment – some even degenerated into sword fights.

“Are you unwell?”

Yuna blinked as she looked down, remembering to allow a soft smile to grace her face as she shook her head, saying, “It is nothing.”

“Does the night frighten you?”

The smile was still maintained on her face, but she knew that she had been caught out, not paying attention to her customer. She had hoped that he was not perceptive, but she should have known better – Okita Souji was a genius who could read and judge a person by a glance, which contributed to his unsaid status as a master swordsman of the highest calibre. Somehow though, she had managed to snag the young man within her net, though only thus far – the young man was still too embedded in the ideals of what his group stood for to even allow her to begin trying to turn him towards her employers.

Currently, he had his head pillowed on her lap, resting quite comfortably in the silence. He had arrived here just before the usual time where the matron of this house stopped accepting customers for the night. Serizawa had not come with him, and it was only because she knew that Oume was visiting Serizawa at the headquarters of the Roshigumi. However, there had been times before in the past few months since they had first met that Okita had come alone, and she never questioned it, for it was not in her cover's nature to.

There was concern in his eyes and though she kept her tone light, along with the smile on her lips, she said, “Every day, there are reports of people being murdered in the middle of the night. I am just concerned for Oume.”

“Serizawa will protect her,” the young man replied, shifting slightly. “He will not let her come to harm.”

“He always frightens me,” she said, deliberately dropping her voice to a near whisper that was filled with insecurity.

It was time that she chose between the two goals, for she knew that even with all of the time in the world, neither could be achieved at the same time. Too much was happening, and eventually, the unrest within Kyoto would come to a great, blood-filled clash – one side or the other would emerge victorious. Serizawa had to die in order for her to even attempt to pursue converting Okita or even try to retake the information network and begin 'guiding' again.

“Nothing will harm you,” Okita said, “I swear it. You do not need to fear him while I am around.”

Affecting a startled yet touched look, she could not help but smile behind the facade. Though perceptive, the young man was still not well versed in social politics and thus she had easily caught his surface thoughts with her small performance. As she had suspected for the past months, Okita had something in mind with regards to Serizawa, but she was not going to question that.

Reaching out with a hand, she softly stroked his cheek, but was stopped when he clasped his hand over her own, saying, “Not tonight. I will be going on patrol soon.”

“Always so brave,” she murmured, injecting as much admiration and affection into the tone of her voice as possible. “Always so gallant too. Why can't other men be just like you?” She saw his cheeks color slightly in embarrassment with the praise she lavished upon him. “I will always feel safe whenever you are around, but I worry about Oume too. I see her and she is so happy with him, even though he has said unkind things towards not only her but all of us here. She protected and defended him when we try to refuse him as a patron here only a couple of weeks ago.”

Perhaps it was the heartfelt look she had plastered on her face, or the unsaid plea in the tone of her voice, augmented by her actual feelings of missing her son who was now living with complete strangers outside of Kyoto, or a combination of both... she saw the flash of a flinty look appear in Okita's eyes before they softened again.

“I will try to convince Serizawa not to hold his patronage here anymore,” he said. “However, I believe it might help if Oume is willing to continue to visit Serizawa at our headquarters.”

“I will also try my best then. Thank you so much,” she said, ensuring that her voice sounded as relieved as possible as Okita pushed himself up from her lap and sat slightly hunched over, as if thinking.

Wrapping her arms around his thin, but densely muscular shoulders, she briefly leaned her head against the back of his left shoulder, feeling the coarse but still somewhat soft cloth of his gi on her cheeks. Even though it had been thoroughly washed, she could still faintly smell blood on it – from the countless individuals that Okita had killed in the name of the Shogun and the order and peace the name carried. To any other individual who worked in a flower house, they would smell only the cloth mixed with Okita's natural scent, but to her, she had to thank her brothers and sisters, along with their training, to know what attempted wash out of blood smelled like.

“I must go now, Azami,” Okita softly said, gently extricating himself from her embrace. “I shall return tomorrow night.”

She merely nodded, keeping her head low as she heard him pick up his sword and walk towards the door. Hearing it open and close with his departure, she heard his footsteps fade away before letting the breath she was holding, exhale. She would never say any sort of wish for luck or otherwise towards that man. It was not in her nature to. It was, however, in her nature to ensure that everything planned went according to plan, and therefore luck was never needed.

Another partition opened a few minutes later and she heard and felt the familiar presence of her younger sister shuffle in. “He left early.”

“No doubt to fulfill some assassination assignment given to him by Serizawa,” she flippantly said.

“I'm surprised that he's not returning until tomorrow night,” her sister said. “Most men feel a need to copulate right after killing someone...something about the blood-spray gets the heart racing.”

She frowned at her younger sister, for though it was disturbing to hear her say something like that so casually, she knew that her younger sisters and brother had a much different experience growing up than she did. Even their older brother, the self-proclaimed thirteenth Hiko Seijuurou had been raised and trained in a harsh environment. While the swordsmen and swordswomen in her family had a much different mentality than she had, it was always her own opinion that had never been spoken out loud to anyone that she thought that they had a much more unstable mentality after Hiko Seijuurou had killed the twelfth master and went on his rampage. At least he had been stopped, and now there was a truce between him and the organization.

“Drinking is what most of them do after killing someone,” she casually said, shrugging. “Blood seems to make the sake taste better.”

“Especially if it is a rain of blood.”

* * *

Summer crickets and cicadas barely covered the squelching sound of Kenshin's sharp blade being pulled up and out of the man he had just killed. A spray of blood accompanied the open wound, but did not land on him. With the victim's arm decapitated and flying away from the body, along with unidentifiable parts of sliced organs and blood spilling out as the body thudded face-first to the ground, Kenshin stepped back.

Flicking the blood off of his blade as best as he could, he reached into the side of his gi and pulled out a piece of folded paper. Letting it flutter to the ground, it landed on the back of his victim, with the bold writing spelled out. Iizuka and the others who assisted him would not be cleaning up the body tonight, for it was meant to be a message to certain people opposing the expulsion of foreigners.

Reaching back into his clothes, he then pulled out a piece of cloth out and ran his blade in between the fold of the cloth. Flecks of sinew, muscle and blood bunched on the cloth, partially soaking it as he quickly cleaned the blade. He would have to fine-tune the cleaning when he got back to the inn, but for now, it was good enough.

Sheathing his blade, he dropped the cloth onto the still growing blood puddle and left. Though his footsteps down the street were hurried, he did not rush or run, for it would have created a louder ruckus. There was also the fact that just before he had killed the man, he thought he had felt a sharply cold but powerful presence in the area. He had kept his own as diminished as possible, though he had unleashed his _ken-ki_ as soon as he had sighted the man he was to kill, and did not give the man time to scream before swiftly killing him.

A distant clatter of buckets and crates being smashed down a street halted him as his left hand seized his scabbard and poised his thumb near the guard of the sword, ready to push the blade out. However, as he slowly crept towards the intersection in the streets where he had heard the noise, he thought he heard the sound of someone yelling in fright before the familiar sound of a blade slicing through flesh rang through the air. Pressing himself as close to the side of the house that was nearest to the intersection as possible, he peeked out onto the street, just in time to see a second man fall to the blade of an assassin.

His hand tightened his his scabbard as he saw that the man who had killed the two, was advancing on a third samurai, who looked like he was about to or was already wetting himself. There was a fourth man, and instead, he heard a roar down the streets echo, as the fourth man charged and attempted to kill the assassin. The style, though as Kenshin watched the assassin effortlessly cleave the man nearly in half at the torso, was different – almost finessed to a point where the assassin did not take much effort to deal out blows.

A fine spray of blood gushed out of the halved man, as the assassin advanced on his final target, but Kenshin knew that it could not be the Tosa clansman he had met earlier in the day, Okada Izou. Katsura had told him of the style that the Tosa hitokiri studied and how he killed, and what he, Kenshin, had just witnessed was definitely more refined, quicker, and much deadlier. This assassin was also definitely not infamous Shogun hitokiri, Udou Jin'e, for Kurogasa as he was also known as, killed with a brutality that was borderline animalistic. This Shogunate assassin, killing four southern samurai, by the looks of their clothes and hair, could possibly rival him in skills.

However, he did not linger or attempt to avenge the dead samurai on the ground, for he had felt yet another presence enter his awareness. This one felt like a hunter, someone not to be trifled with, though Kenshin could feel that the person was also trying to conceal as much of his presence as possible to not alert anyone around. This presence felt familiar, and he knew that it was a member of the Roshigumi, or Miburo as most of Kyoto inhabitants called them.

With the hunting wolf of Mibu closing in upon the area, Kenshin ducked back out of sight and left, heading towards the opposite direction. Katsura had warned him to not let anyone discover about him yet, for the man wanted him to build up his skills as a hitokiri first, allowing the Shogunate to quake with fear as his name was slowly spread to aid the Ishinshishi cause. He heeded Katsura's warnings, for he knew that it was necessary to bring about the new era.

* * *

The smell of blood saturated the air as Saitou paused and sniffed. There had been more than one assassination tonight, and it was not the fact that he had clearly seen the remains of the men killed by Okita. Looking back down, he resumed his cursory examination, careful not to step into the pools of blood and entrails spilled out and left by the dead. There was even one man who had been cleaved nearly in half by Okita, and he briefly wondered how Okita's sword had survived such a brutal slice through cloth, flesh, and thick muscles protecting organs. Upon closer examination, noted that Okita had sliced through the weakest part of the body – just below the ribs, before the area where intestines were supposed to be packed in, and right below the stomach.

The result was a pulpy, wet mess that spilled into the streets when Saitou pushed the man slightly over with his foot. Clearly, the way the samurai had landed had only managed to keep whatever had been held back by the ground, back – it was going to be a nightmare for anyone who bothered to clean up the mess.

Shoveling fecal matter vacated from the body after death was one thing, shoveling pieces of ribs, arms, stomach, livers, and all sorts of other organs was another. Returning most of the bodies and their pieces to bereaved families was done with missing parts that could not be identified as to what belonged to who. Given how haphazardly these four samurai who had been killed by Okita, landed in death, Saitou shook his head in irritation.

He could only guess that these four had been targeted by Serizawa who had given the assignment to Okita to counter the fear that was permeating Kyoto with the killings of Shogunate-affiliated samurai. There was no documents upon them that Saitou could find, citing that they had justification of being killed, and if Hijikata wanted to keep his, Saitou, following and spying on Okita secret, then answers would not come easy.

Leaving the bodies on the street, he continued down, following the faint scent of more blood spilt, turning towards another street before he came to another grisly scene. Some ways away was a part of an arm, with the hand still holding onto the sword. Another samurai, this time a minor Shogunate official, laid on the ground, glassy-eyed with a piece of half-blood soaked folded paper lying on him.

**[Tenchuu]** the paper spelled out.

He had been cleanly sliced in a diagonal manner, and Saitou instantly knew that this work was the same kind of technique used upon people that he had seen earlier in the afternoon. From how long the pool of blood had been saturating on the ground, he knew that this man had been killed around the same time Okita had killed his four targets – except that this man had been killed by the new assassin.

He had thought he had felt a strange but powerful presence near where he had last felt Okita's presence as he followed the young man. However, it was elusive and thus he had not pursued it. Now though, he needed to return and continue following Okita, though with all intents and purposes, he knew that Okita was returning to the Roshigumi headquarters. Hijikata would be expecting the first of many reports on Okita's activities soon, and Saitou knew that he should not linger. They could deal with the new hitokiri in the morning.

 

_As summer crept upon the country, relations between foreign trading powers and Japan continued to deteriorate. After the Emperor broke several centuries of political tradition and called for a response from the Shogun concerning the foreigners. Before the response came from the Shogun, Choshuu forces independently responded to the Emperor's command. They attacked foreign ships traversing Shimonoseki strait._

 

_Under pressure from the Emperor, and from the growing loss of control over provinces, the Shogun was also forced to declare that foreigners were no longer allowed to trade in the country._

 

_The foreign powers retaliated, causing both the Emperor and Shogun to pause and consider retracting their declarations._

 

_However, the fact that Choshuu openly defied the Shogun in favor of the Emperor was also causing more unrest within the country. Other minor provinces started to rebel. This, coupled with the presence of many clashing powers in Kyoto, plunged the city (and country in general), and her people further into the chaotic storm of revolution._

 

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okada Izou and Udou Jin'e both exist in my universe, even though Watsuki-san has stated for the record that Udou Jin'e was based upon Okada Izou. I just found it hilarious enough to include them both in it, along with Kenshin as assassins. Also, this chapter is my semi-tribute to the awesome 2010 NHK Taiga Drama: Ryomaden.


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